


Battle Scarred

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Community: tf_speedwriting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam searches for Bumblebee in the wreckage of ruined streets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle Scarred

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [tf_speedwriting](http://tf-speedwriting.livejournal.com) 25th February 2012 prompt - #4: Missing, presumed dead.

Sam stood alone in the ruined street, surrounded by piles of rubble and blasted buildings, walls crumbled and windows smashed on all sides. He could feel the dirt and the grime of battle staining his skin, the sweat of exertion clinging to his body beneath his clothes, as his chest heaved from the remnants of that same exertion. The streets were eerily too silent after the noise of battle, yet he knew that it was only a temporary thing, a brief respite from the rush of humanity that would no doubt be converging on the mess once more. Already he could hear sirens in the distance, winding down closer, the distinct call of several ambulances and fire engines. He had no doubt that the police would be along soon, too.

In the distance, he could see Optimus Prime moving amongst the rubble, large, metal hands sifting through the broken buildings on his portion of the street , no doubt searching for survivors. Sam was glad that Optimus had managed to survive, relatively unharmed in the long run. The only concession that Optimus made to having fought at all, was that he’d managed to score himself a few more battle scars, dents and scrapes marring his already worn metal hide. 

Sam turned when he heard more movement from behind him; humans climbing from the wreckage of a blasted building to stare warily around him. Sam didn’t bother to speak to them, deciding to leave them to their own devices and find their own way around the now ruined landscape. After all, he’d done his part to save humanity yet again; the battle with the Decepticons seemed a near constant thing in recent times and Sam felt tired, more tired than he’d felt in a long time. Despite still being a young man in comparison to the far older Autobots he counted as his friends, he still felt aged beyond his years, skin and bones a dry expanse of fatigue and battle-weariness.

Sam plodded away, moving through the battle scarred streets, making his way towards Optimus wearily. Beside the blue and red giant, he could see Ratchet and Jazz emerging from the rubble, complaining loudly about dust in their servos and ocular cavities. Sam had to smile at that, despite himself; trust the Autobots to complain about dust when the bigger picture was a far sorrier state.

Sam’s eyes scanned the streets as more Autobots began to emerge, familiar shapes of Ironhide, Wheeljack, Prowl and still others, yet Bumblebee was noticeable by his absence. Sam frowned at that, feeling a jab of fright pierce through him, turning his blood to ice water in his veins. Despite bearing genuine regard and respect for the other Autobots, Bumblebee was the one that Sam was closest to, the one he considered a true friend and guardian.

“Hey, Optimus,” Sam yelled up at the giant Autobot once he‘d reached the Prime‘s feet. “You seen Bee?” 

“No, Sam, not yet,” Optimus replied, a sudden frown marring the brilliant blue fire of his gaze. 

“D’you know where he might be?” Sam asked, next.

“No,” Optimus replied, and a sudden note of dread was evident in his tone. “When was the last you saw him?” 

“I don’t know. I lost track of him in battle, Why d’you think I’m asking you if you’ve seen him?” Sam asked, with an irritated little snort at the Autobots leader.

Optimus didn’t rebuke Sam for the irritation; after all, Sam wasn’t truly angry at Optimus himself. Sam was frightened for his friend.

“I’ll help you look,” was all Optimus said in reply.

“Thank you,” Sam said, quietly, weariness replacing the anger of a few moments before.

Optimus nodded, but didn’t reply further. Instead, he watched as the human picked his way through the rubble, before he directed the other Autobots into finding Bumblebee. Sam toiled through the rubble, working his way down the street as he did so, periodically calling for Bumblebee. He kept his ears trained upon every slight noise, every light riffle of breeze in the hopes that every last movement would be his friend. Each time, he discovered that the noise was man-made, humans scooting through the wreckage of war, or buildings shifting as bricks pattered to the ground in dangerous clumps. Sam skirted each and every one, eyes peering every which way in hopes of seeing the Autobot.

Fear had gripped him, barely kept at bay by his own determination to locate the missing Bumblebee and his own need to not give in to his own fear. He had to find Bumblebee; his own stubbornness prevented him from believing in anything else. He reached the end of the street he was currently in before crossing to the next one. This, he discovered, wasn’t as ruined as the one he’d recently left, yet the damage was still quite bad. He worked his way slowly down one side of the street, until suddenly, he heard the faint sounds of music from nearby, a sad song that clearly cried out for help and assistance.

“Bee?” Sam tried, hoping that it was the Autobot and not some badly wired car radio. “Bee?”

The music seemed to grow louder, more insistent and Sam spurted forward, feet pounding against the ruined and cracked asphalt in a steady rhythmic run, until he reached a densely packed pile of rubble. He could see the familiar flash of yellow and black paintwork beneath and he surged forward, hands grappling for the bricks and shoving them aside, all the while telling Bumblebee that he was there, he was ready to help him. He didn’t notice that Optimus had reached their location until the leader of the Autobots spoke, voice oddly muted.

“Sam, step aside,” he said. “I’ve got this.” 

Sam didn’t want to leave Bumblebee and it took a lot of encouragement on Optimus’ part before the human finally stepped aside, reluctance clear in the set of his body and the tension in his jaw. Optimus made short work of removing the remaining rubble that covered Bumblebee, moving the scree far quicker than Sam could ever have done. Bumblebee sat, slowly, one large metallic hand rising to clutch at his forehead, a clear indication of being fuzzy headed. Sam had to smile at that; it seemed an oddly human gesture in one so large and robotic and he wondered if he’d rubbed off on the Autobot, after all. 

“You’re safe, now, Bee. I thought you were dead,” Sam told him, once Optimus had helped Bumblebee to his feet once more.

“Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” boomed Bumblebee, the words slightly crackled and static-filled over his radio speakers.

“I can see that, Bee,” Sam said. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

“I am, and always shall be, your friend,” Bumblebee said, in Spock’s voice, as he lifted Sam up upon his shoulder. 

“I know,” Sam said, tapping the large metal shoulder beneath his ass with one hand.

Optimus melted away at that point, leaving the two friends to their reunion.


End file.
